


The Fate Line

by Macx



Series: Imperfection Deviation [82]
Category: Transformers (Bay Movies), Warehouse 13
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-31
Updated: 2011-03-31
Packaged: 2017-10-19 06:39:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/198033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Macx/pseuds/Macx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lennox has one of those talks with the ancient dead Primes again. At least this time he gets a few clear answers concerning what happened to him and why.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Fate Line

Fate line (palmistry, palm reading): The Fate Line, also known as the line of destiny, tells the effect society and world events have upon your life (things that come to you from outside)

 

The climate of the Arctic is characterized broadly by long, cold winters and short, cool summers. With the Spring time starting in May and summer already close to over in June, the less-snowy and more-rainy months are shorter than the snow-and-ice ones.  
It never bothered the people stationed at Arctic, the Autobot base high up in the North of Canada. Nor did it bother those mechs who were stationed here almost year-round. They were used to a lot colder temperatures and their bodies maintained functionality with ease.  
Still, it wasn’t normal for anyone to go strolling through the permafrost landscape without serious gear and sensible clothing.  
Unless his name was Will Lennox.

 

+++++++++++++++++++++

 

“How can you even talk to me? You’re dead!”  
There was a wave of what Will interpreted as amusement.  
“We all come from the Allspark. We all return to the Allspark.”  
The cold pit in his stomach wasn’t just his imagination. Okay, so it had probably been a stupid idea to attempt this form of communication, but Lennox wanted answers, once and for all. Clear and precise answers. Not the mystical mumbo-jumbo the ancient shadows usually spouted. He had had enough of that.  
“You are connected to the Allspark’s energy. You can talk to us.”  
Lennox didn’t feel very reassured. “But the Allspark was destroyed,” he argued. “Twenty years ago!”  
“You can’t destroy something like the Allspark. It is so much more than its physical shape.”  
“What is it?” he pressed.  
“You wouldn’t understand.”  
“Oh, that’s grand coming from a bunch of dead sparks!”  
More amusement. “Our existence inside physical forms has ceased, true. But death isn’t the end of everything, Avatar Prime. Energy lives on and will be reborn somewhere else.”  
“So the Allspark is still there?”  
“Its energy is. One day it might gather inside a physical shape once more and have a new purpose. For now it is everywhere.”  
He was silent, gazing into the surreal landscape around him. “Is it gathering in me?” Lennox finally asked evenly.  
“You are the key, not the vessel.”  
“That’s a relief.”  
“You can tap into certain aspects of the energy and have already done so frequently.”  
Well, there went the relief. Will shook his head. “Not what I wanted to hear,” he muttered.  
“Your contact with the Allspark made you receptive for the energy that was contained within the Cube.”  
“You call that contact?” Lennox exclaimed, a brief anger flaring inside him. “I was stabbed into the gut by that thrice-damned shard!”  
There was no reply.  
“Oh, right, go silent when I’m not behaving like you want me to!”  
“We don’t expect anything of you, Avatar Prime. You are our heir, like the others are our heirs. You continue our line.”  
“I’m not even one of you! I’m human!”  
“Origin doesn’t change your destiny.”  
“Would you cut the crap and talk like a normal person?”  
The flare had made way for a fire now. Will felt all the fear and anger bubble up. Something sizzled over his skin and he groaned softly when he discovered the bluish-white tendrils of energy licking along the rising runes.  
Something walked toward, tall and imposing, a protoform of ancient times. It was bipedal and had two arms, but the face looked more like some H.R. Giger painting, with eight eye slits, all glowing red, a flat opening in the middle of the face that might be called a nose, and no mouth. Well, some kind of jagged opening, but definitely not even close to a mouth. Next to the head two fan-like extensions flared. The Prime – old, dead, ancient, whatever – had three fingers on each hand and a lot of spikes and protuberances everywhere.  
“What happened to you was necessary, William,” the ancient being said, the voice calm and reasonable. “With the destruction of the Allspark we needed to have a focus.”  
“Why me?”  
“Because you were the only choice.”  
“You had a lot of other choices!” Will argued hotly.  
“None of our kind would have been able to handle what happened. The Allspark does different things to different beings. Taking part of it into us changes the individual profoundly. It might even destroy him.”  
“And I wasn’t profoundly changed?!”  
It got him a nod of acceptance. “You were changed, but not killed. At the time you were and still are the only viable option.”  
“You could have asked.”  
“We have no voice, Will. Without your connection to the Allspark you wouldn’t talk to us either.”  
He was silent, contemplating the information. “How come Optimus wasn’t a choice?” he finally asked.  
“He bears a strong spark, but sparks can’t contain the energy of the Allspark. It destroys them. All of us, no matter the designation, come from the Allspark. Its energy is part of ours. We return and disappear into oblivion until part of us is reborn in another spark, without the awareness or a prior life. To take in more than we already bear is fatal.”  
“Oh.”  
“Even for Optimus Prime,” the ancient Prime added with a fine smile audible in its voice.  
“So, what now? We have monthly meetings?”  
“You live your life as you have before. You learn about what you can do and where your limits are,” was the simple answer. “We won’t interfere with your life. It is your life.”  
“Thank you for that,” Lennox answered with a soft sigh.  
“We aren’t alive any more,” the ancient Prime told him. “What we are is energy. Sometimes we are focused enough for you to hear us. Most of the time we are adrift. One day we might cease to exist completely.”  
Considering how long ago the thirteen Primes had perished, Will doubted it would be any time soon.  
Tenacious bastards, he thought.  
The Prime looked at him, waiting, then Will finally nodded. They were done here and he was feeling the first tugs at the edge of his consciousness. It was time to cut this short and return to his own world.

 

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 

He came to in a damp and soggy environment. Lennox looked up into the leaden sky, cursing. He shouldn’t have done this outside, without a roof over his head, but the risk had outweighed the logic. If something went wrong and the contact to the Primes triggered any kind of reaction within his body, outside was better than blowing up the base because of rampaging energies.  
Now he was thoroughly wet because of the sudden rain.  
Fun.  
Getting up, Lennox wiped water out of his eyes, which was a rather useless gesture. He was thoroughly drenched.  
He was also a few miles from the base.  
So he walked.  
He had walked to this place in the first place, so another walk wouldn’t hurt. It also helped him think, clear his head, and he would walk off whatever energy he had stored throughout this mental connection.  
Looking at his hands Will saw a few runes. They were faint, barely there, but they had come closer to the surface than usual. He felt nothing amiss with the energy levels, so he didn’t think he was a danger.  
The rain made the path he was using slippery and he contemplated using his alternate form, but he didn’t want to risk running into anyone who might shoot first and never ask any questions. Theoretically this was the land of the State, but you never knew what weirdo happened about what shouldn’t be seen – and took pictures.  
It took him an hour to reach the base and he got a rather incredulous look from one of the soldiers on patrol. Private Gary McNab, Lennox recalled.  
“Sir?” the man asked.  
“Took a walk,” Will explained, trying not to laugh at the private’s expression of disbelief. “Wasn’t raining then.”  
They were high up past the Arctic Circle. It was cold. The rain was coming down as sleet by now. And Lennox was walking around in a long-sleeve shirt and cargo pants. All wet. Actually, he looked like he had taken a swim in them.  
He wasn’t freezing, though.  
“Uh, okay,” McNab answered. “Sir,” he added.  
Will suppressed a chuckle and walked into the base, past two more guards, aware that his approach had been watched through very advanced Stark Industries hybrid surveillance systems. He was also aware that they had no idea who he was when he didn’t want them to see him, though he hadn’t actively suppressed his presence. It wouldn’t do to surprise an armed base and provoke them into shooting one of the human Primes.  
Lennox ran into Prowl, who gave him the mech version of a scowl, which was pretty damn close to a human one.  
“You should carry a com device, Prime,” the tactician told him.  
Bite me, Will thought rebelliously.  
“We don’t know if Soundwave or another Decepticon might still be on Earth or sneak back onto this planet. Without a communicator we might lose you.”  
“You haven’t,” Will replied, forcing calmness into his voice as he dripped a puddle onto the floor. “And I know how to handle myself. You would have seen the energy spike on your radar.”  
Prowl’s optics narrowed. “Your safety…”  
“Noted,” Lennox interrupted him. “You’ll get my itinerary the next time I plan to get all cozy with the energy signatures of some dusty old Primes.”  
And with that he walked past the white mech, who had been stunned into silence. Will knew that Prowl took his duties very seriously and that it was hard working with a mech who was so by-the-book and, according to Jazz, and using a human term, had a rod up his exhaust. Still, he was simply doing his duty. You couldn’t fault him for that. You could only ignore the rising blood pressure when it came to dealing with Prowl’s obstinate views.

*

A hot shower and dry clothes helped in getting Lennox into a better mood. He joined some of the soldiers on base in the mess hall and finished off a barbecue platter with fries. He listened to them exchange stories from home, about births, birthdays, anniversaries, planned vacations or holidays, and so on. Moments like these he felt completely human, part of the Army again, like nothing had ever changed. No one treated him differently and those who had known him for a while knew that William Lennox wasn’t different from any of them when it came to hopes and dreams. Just that his dreams had burst like a bubble twenty years ago.  
“How’s Bella?” Captain Shaw asked as he wiped the rest of the delicious sauce off his plate.  
“Graduating soon. She’s planning an internship at Nellis.”  
“She’ll do great,” Shaw told him.  
Benny Shaw had been a private when Lennox had been Captain and that had been a lifetime ago. Now he was at Arctic, heading a really good unit, and was one of the select few who knew about the mechs.  
Sometimes Will felt really, really old.

*

He took the early transport flight to Nevada two days later and smiled when he discovered that he had a welcome committee. Ironhide didn’t say a thing, but when they were in his quarters, the hardlight hologram expressed what the mech never put into so many words.  
“Found what you were looking for?” Ironhide rumbled, playful fingers tracing the Matrix Key tattoo.  
Will shivered. “Kinda. No final answers, but enough to get me through the next crisis.”  
A particular segment had him groan softly as fingers massaged over it.  
“Not the Allspark,” he murmured.  
“Told you so,” Ironhide whispered.  
“Yeah, well…”  
“Now you believe it?”  
He nodded, eyes closed, enjoying the touches. “I’m linked to the Allspark energy,” Lennox said after a while. “Seems like that stuff is everywhere, waiting to gather again and turn into a new Cube or something.”  
“Not inside you?”  
“No. I’m not outfitted to be the Allspark.”  
“Good.”  
And with that it was settled. Will smiled a little sleepily, enjoying the sensual touches. He let himself fall into a doze, relaxing into his partner’s solid form, and finally he nodded off.

* * *

He needed a change of scenery and the invitation to accompany Trent DeMarco to Warehouse 13 was something Lennox didn’t decline. Getting away from the base, from the mechs, even from his bonded, might be drastic, but it helped in settling him time and again. Lennox also needed something else to do. He was military, even now, but he wasn’t on active duty. His days had no clear plans. He had no meetings, no training units, nothing at all to attend, aside from the occasional conference call for the Primes. And even that didn’t give him any kind of regularity.  
So the Warehouse was very tempting, especially since the task to categorize the artifacts according to Allspark or Cybertronian influence was more than just a day assignment. This meant weeks, months, maybe more. Trent, with his background as a first rate logistician, had become a permanent fixture at the Warehouse and while he couldn’t communicate with Thirteen, he made a lot of headway concerning the inventory of the gigantic, seemingly endless building. Arthur Nielsen, the senior agent and boss of the others, had grudgingly accepted the soldier in their midst, though he still acted gruff and mostly unfriendly around him. Claudia in turn had adopted Trent and given him a big tour through the building. It was Claudia who also worked with him most of the time.  
Lennox’s arrival was greeted by suspicious looks from Artie and a careful approach by Claudia. She quickly warmed to him when it became clear that Will reacted with varying intensity to some of the artifacts. The runes had her run for some kind of device that looked like oversized spectacles with differently colored lenses, and then study what was crawling over the lightly tanned skin.  
“Rad!” she exclaimed after a while.  
Will chuckled. “One way of putting it.”  
Even Nielsen was gazing at him with a curious expression. The other two agents, Bering and Lattimer, were on assignment.  
Stepping out onto the balcony that gave him the best view into the cavernous room, the hybrid let everything settle on him. The size, the sheer number of rows upon rows, the knowledge that this was the largest collection of artifacts that had been influenced by Cybertronian tech outside of Sector Seven archives, and the feeling of ‘something’. Runes rose to the surface and swirled over his skin.  
“May I?” Will asked, gesturing at the vastness before him.  
Artie frowned. “Don’t touch anything,” he only said.  
Claudia scowled. “Don’t take him too seriously. He’s protective of the Warehouse. And you’ve got clearance.”  
They both were protective, Lennox noted, just in different ways. Now especially since they knew that the building was actually sentient and aware, though unable to interact or prevent any kind of accident from happening. Artie had been with the organization for decades and Claudia was the self-proclaimed ‘next generation’. She loved this place and Will could see it in her every move and hear it in her words.  
Lennox walked into the maze of shelves, heading nowhere specific, just… going. This was more like a town inside a mountain than a warehouse. You would need days to reach the other end on foot. Some shelves were too close together for a car to pass between them, but others had enough distance and seemed to function like main roads. He had seen a map that gave the rows street names, quadrants and places, just like a city. Some mechs would be able to walk easily in here. All of them would have no problem standing upright – unless they got tangled in the power lines.  
He went past a house – full size, not a doll house – a helicopter that sizzled and sparked as he came near, several motor vehicles, and even a good-sized cruise ship. Will wondered how it had ended up in here and why. All artifacts were here for a reason, because of their influence on humanity or the environment. They all had residual energy that sparked to life at the wrong moment. Some were malevolent, some more benign, but all took something out of the user or the owner.  
When he stopped in front of a door that said ‘Dark Vault’ he felt something almost push him along. The whole area was creepy, like in a very well executed horror movie, and the heavy duty security door told him that this was a dangerous place.  
Will let Thirteen guide him on, curious as to how far the contact would go. It was like a stroll through a deserted town. He knew the history of the Warehouses, from 1 to the current one, number 13. He knew why they had come into existence. He just wondered where artifacts had been stored before the first one had been established. Probably with spiritual guides, churches or something close to that. Mystical events described in legends and stories mostly came back to an artifact. Every time a Warehouse was destroyed or closed down, hidden from humanity, the artifacts inside were lost with it. Some were transferred when the close-down procedure was a controlled one, but that had been rare.  
He stopped at an intersection between rows, gazing at the ceiling very far above. In the distance he saw a silver cylindrical object. An airship. Lennox didn’t have Sam’s sensitivity for another mind, but he knew there was something here. Set apart from the wiring of the computer system that ran the Warehouse’s basic functions, its security and the computers, was a presence. It had always been there.  
“Hello,” he said quietly.  
The presence was closer, but he heard no words.  
“Thanks for letting me wander.”  
There was no reply. Will hadn’t expected one. Instead he looked around and discovered what looked like an old wooden box. He approached it and when he didn’t get a wordless warning, he sat down. It contained nothing and there was no warning label. It was a simple box. Closing his eyes he tried to get a sense of the being running the Warehouse in the background, but there was nothing but the sounds he had heard before. A subtle humming from the electricity and the occasional sizzle of an artifact.  
“You can hear me, right?” he asked.  
The presence seemed to increase.  
“You can see me.”  
Another brief increase.  
“Any way we could talk?”  
Above him something creaked and there was a new sizzle. It sounded like the building was settling down, an ominous groan echoing through the cavern.  
“You can’t control anything here, right?”  
There was a slightly heavy feeling on his right side.  
“That means no?”  
Now the feeling was on his left side.  
Lennox smiled. “Let’s try this again. This is Warehouse 13?”  
Left side. So left meant ‘yes’.  
“Hello, Thirteen. I’m Will Lennox. My Cybertronian name is Avatar Prime.”  
Left side, brief brush over his body.  
“Do you mind me sitting here for a while?”  
Right side. No.  
“I know Sam can speak to you and he probably asked you already, but is there a way to see your central processor?”  
Right side. No.  
“You’re everywhere?”  
Left side. Yes.  
Weird. Mechs had a spark and a processor. Thirteen wasn’t a normal Cybertronian and because of it general rules couldn’t be applied. But the programming had to be somewhere. The heart and soul had to be here; somewhere.  
“Are you within the artifacts?”  
Right side. No.  
“Are you an artifact?”  
Right side. No.  
“Is there a safe place for me to touch a part of the wall?”  
There was nothing, like Thirteen was mulling it over, then a gentle brush and Will got up. He followed the touch only he could feel and after a while he reached a massive support pillar. When he placed his hand onto the metal the runes flared to the surface and Lennox’s eyes widened at the rush of energy that coursed through him.  
Whoa! Sam hadn’t told him about the strength of the presence, nor had it felt like Thirteen could have such an impact. Geez!  
So much for a watered down version!  
Blinking, Will looked at the ceiling so far above and almost laughed as he saw lines of energy snaking across what looked like an old shed roof with corrugated metal, steel and wooden beams. There was a network of lines, veins, pulsing. They ran toward different areas, intersecting, forming knots. Some crawled down the support structure underneath, some formed thick clusters over the areas Thirteen had steered him away from. And everywhere in the space around him, thick clouds of energy hovered, absorbing whatever the artifacts exuded.  
“You live off the energy fields,” Will whispered.  
Left side. Yes.  
“And when the Warehouse collapses, the energy restarts you the moment a new Warehouse is built?”  
Left side, right side. Indecision. Thirteen wasn’t sure what happened after it ceased to exist. Since Two still existed, it wasn’t just a rebirth. It was a paste-and-copy effect.  
More runes coalesced at his fingers and they seemed to explore the contact of skin against metal like burned-golden ants crawling over an interesting meal.  
Suddenly one of the energy lines detached itself from the net above and whisked toward him. There was a moment of hesitation and when Will didn’t pull back, the line touched him.  
In a split second he was rushed through a history of Thirteen and he almost laughed at the child-like enthusiasm he sensed. Thirteen loved its agents, wanted the humans to be with it, and it had a great fondness of Claudia Donovan. Apparently she was the stand-in and Caretaker-in-waiting. It loved its current Caretaker and it was sad about every agent lost within the decades it had existed. But it was also delighted in meeting someone it could talk to: Sam Witwicky. And now Will.  
“My pleasure,” Will said softly, smiling.  
Thirteen echoed the sentiment.  
It pulled back a little, like making an invitation, and Will followed. In the mind-scape that was now shared by Thirteen he was easily walking among the almost holographic appearing shelves. Deeper and deeper, without any effort, he explored. When he was shown the Quarantine Area he understood that he wasn’t physically there. Thirteen was using the connection to give him a rough idea of the important spots and their meaning. Like the Dark Vault and the Bronze Sector. The surrounding shelves were dangerous as well, but in this state he could look and remain unaffected.  
And Lennox understood just what kind of a dangerous powder keg this was. He understood that the security measures were varied and extreme. He understood they were necessary. And he understood that should the Warehouse need to be shut down, nothing could stop that process. Centuries of warehouses had shown that the death of an agent or civilian was acceptable under these circumstances.  
“Mr. Lennox.”  
Will jumped and lost the connection, whirling to face a woman of undefined age. Dark-skinned, glasses, hair pulled back in an elaborate bun, Mrs. Irene Frederic looked at the hybrid with a fine smile.  
“Welcome to the Warehouse, Mr. Lennox.”  
“Thank you.”  
He wondered how she had come here without him noticing. Sure, he had been absorbed in the tentative connection to Thirteen, but she had apparently just popped up.  
“I see you are getting acquainted with the layout.”  
“Kinda. I didn’t want to intrude… in case…” Will made a general gesture.  
Mrs. Frederic smiled slightly. “No intrusion, Mr. Lennox. I’m both fascinated and slightly terrified by your ability to connect to something I wasn’t even aware of being an entity.”  
Will looked into the intense, dark eyes. Mrs. Frederic had been the Caretaker for a lot longer than he could imagine, but like all her predecessors in all the other Warehouses, she had never known what she was bonded to. And Thirteen was unable to use that bond to communicate.  
“I won’t hurt what you have with Thirteen. Neither will Sam. The Warehouse, the artifacts… it’s something that alarms us, too. In a different way. Sam and I are trying to understand where the entities came from, who the original being was, how they work since there doesn’t seem to be a spark or a central processing unit. And how they can bond with a human and stop your aging process.”  
Mrs. Frederic inclined her head. “The answers would be interesting to the Regents as well.”  
“And you?”  
She smiled. “Yes.”  
“Would you want to be aware of Thirteen?” Lennox probed carefully.  
The woman was silent, her eyes briefly roaming over the warehouse area they were in. “I don’t know what it would mean, Mr. Lennox, so I can’t answer truthfully.”  
Will nodded.  
“You are bonded,” she stated.  
“Yes.”  
“Would you see it as a bad thing, Mr. Lennox?”  
The hybrid smiled briefly. “Twenty years ago I was freaking out now and then. It wasn’t a sudden occurrence, more like a slow process, and I can see the one I’m bonded to. We can talk. Today I see it as normal.”  
“Normal changed rather long ago,” she said and gazed at the Warehouse ceiling. “Walk with me?”  
He did. Down an aisle, following her lead. Mrs. Frederic moved like she knew every pebble in this place. She probably did. She had been here since the earliest days.  
“The bond created between me and the Warehouse is very different from yours. We both show the same effects. Unlike you, I’m replaceable and have to be replaced for the Warehouse to continue existing. The semi-organic nature of this place demands it.”  
“You volunteered?”  
“I didn’t know what it entailed. You can’t unless you fulfill the bond.” Another brief smile. “I knew it was a commitment, though. One that excluded everything else.”  
“Thirteen appreciates you.”  
“It said so?”  
“To Sam. In those words.”  
She was silent for a long time as they navigated the rows and aisles.  
“This is my life, Mr. Lennox. This Warehouse, its existence, its protection, and the agents hired to gather the artifacts. Unlike them, I never change.”  
“You chose it.”  
“Yes.”  
“What if you had said no? Would there have been someone else?”  
Mrs. Frederic stopped beside an innocent looking wardrobe. “There might have been.”  
“What about your future? Worst case scenario?”  
“It was close already once. A solution was found.” She turned and walked on and Will followed, feeling the soft brush of Thirteen’s presence.  
They walked in silence for a while. Lennox looked over the shelves, surprised at some things, puzzling over others.  
“I hope my trust in you and your colleagues is not misplaced.”  
Lennox watched her, saw the tension in her frame, and he met the even look with a neutral one of his own.  
“We won’t harm the Warehouse or take this away from you, Mrs. Frederic,” he said calmly.  
“You can make this promise.” It wasn’t even half a question.  
“Yes,” he still answered. “I can.”  
And he could. He was a Prime. It was in his power.  
“Think about your words, Mr. Lennox,” the Caretaker said. “The Warehouse has been in existence a lot longer than this alliance of yours. I protect this place. With everything at my disposal.”  
“I understand. So will I.”  
She silently looked at him for a very long time. “It trusts you.” Another half-statement.  
“Yes.”  
“So I should trust you, too.”  
“That is completely up to you.”  
She inclined her head. “It is.” Mrs. Frederic walked on.  
When Will turned the corner she had just taken, he found nothing but an empty aisle. Puzzled, he stopped and looked around. Not a sign of the Caretaker. He didn’t even hear any steps.  
Weird.  
“Mrs. Frederic?” he called.  
But he was alone.  
“Cool trick,” Will muttered.

* * *

Half a day after Will Lennox had walked into the Warehouse, Artie worriedly looked through the binoculars, but he found no trace of the man. He wasn’t so much worried about Lennox than about the artifacts that might be damaged or activated or would get more pissed off than they already were. Nothing could stop the man from playing around with whatever interested him; aside from Artie or Claudia, who were both stuck in the office to help DeMarco.  
Artie huffed. Okay, so it wasn’t his job to help, but he wanted to keep an eye on matters. Lieutenant Colonel Trent DeMarco was nice enough and he had a very good grasp on logistics and archiving and files. But Claudia was too enthusiastic to be careful around the man. Artie just wanted to make sure nothing happened here.  
The whole matter with some other secret organization pushing into his territory, trying to take over his work, making his life hell, didn’t sit well with Artie. Okay, his life wasn’t hell yet, but he suspected the more this military crap continued, the deeper they would be involved in matters that really shouldn’t involve them. The artifacts might be influenced by this Allspark and they might have traces of alien tech, but it was no reason to take over his job.  
Claudia called him a dinosaur and to accept the help, go with the flow, and only kick hard when necessary, not when someone just twitched. So far everything that had happened had helped them understand the Warehouse and the past events a lot better.  
“It’s cool, Artie,” she had told him again and again.  
As someone who didn’t handle authority all that well, especially one that came from the outside of the Warehouse, Arthur Nielsen didn’t see it that way.  
But he reluctantly gave them all the benefit of a doubt, especially since Mrs. Frederic had approved everything. And she protected her Warehouse even more fiercely than anyone else. As the Caretaker she had a single job and she did that with determination.  
Walking back into the office, looking over the chaos that had taken over, he allowed himself a smile. Claudia was talking to DeMarco, gesturing excitedly as they studied a list, and finally she grinned brightly. He knew that grin. It was a challenge accepted.  
“Your friend seems to be lost,” Artie remarked.  
DeMarco looked up, shrugging. “He can take care of himself.”  
“The Warehouse is different.”  
“He knows that, Mr. Nielsen. And if something had happened, we would have noticed.”  
Artie frowned. It was reassuring and worrying in one.  
“According to your standards, Lennox is half an artifact. I think he’s right at home here.”  
So not reassuring. Artifacts were dangerous and one that was merged with a human being, able to walk and talk and exist like this, was very dark in Artie’s eyes.  
“Only you would see this as reassuring,” he answered.  
“Artie, chill,” Claudia piped. “It’s okay, it’s fine, it’s all under control.”  
“That’s what they all say. Haven’t you learned anything?”  
“I’ve learned that you can be such a grump,” she replied. “Be nice. We have company.”  
Artie grumbled under his breath and went back to his watch post. She didn’t understand the real dangers of this place, despite the fact that Claudia had worked here for so long. She saw the wonder in the danger. She saw the excitement. Claudia had been involved in accidents and life-threatening events, she had retrieved deadly and dark artifacts. The Warehouse was her self-proclaimed home; Myka, Pete, Leena, him… they were family.  
And Artie understood the danger better than anyone, aside from Mrs. Frederic. He had faced the accumulated energy of this place countless times and he knew, he knew, it could destroy you – sentient entity or not. He knew never to underestimate the power of an artifact. Or a collection of them. Energy built up, things happened. Bad things.  
And then people ended up dead or worse.  
Artie sighed.  
Claudia was young. They all were. In time they would understand and hopefully it wouldn’t be too late.

 

Twenty-four hours later there was still no sign. There hadn’t been an explosion either, so that was good. But the fact that Lennox was somewhere in the Warehouse and there hadn’t been a life sign made Artie itchy.  
So he looked at the grid, hunting for anomalies – other than the usual blips and spikes – but everything was silent. He even drove a few rounds, just to be sure, and he checked on the Dark Vault and the Bronze Sector.  
Nothing was amiss. All worked within norms and parameters.  
But Lennox remained somewhere, position unknown, in the maze.

 

It took Will almost forty-eight hours to reappear in the command center that looked tiny and lost in the vastness of the Warehouse. Claudia shot him a frown.  
“Finally! Artie was ready to send in the cavalry. That’s me, by the way.”  
Will gave her a reassuring smile. “I’m fine, but thanks for worrying.”  
“I think he was more worried about the Warehouse than you.”  
Trent, who sat at one of the computers, chuckled. He was surrounded by stacks of paper and strange devices, and it looked like he hadn’t slept much in the past two days either; for different reasons.  
“You know how hard it is to track something unregistered down in that maze?” Claudia went on. “And I don’t want to go in there and find you dead body because you got zapped or worse. You have no idea what’s down there. One wrong move and you’re history. Then again, you could have starved to death.”  
“I’m rather… immune to hunger and thirst for a while,” Lennox told her. “As for the rest, I was careful.”  
“Told ya,” Trent muttered and typed something. “He either eats for two or not at all. Freaky.”  
Claudia frowned more. Lennox just shrugged.  
“Got a muffin?” he asked with a light smile.  
She rolled her eyes and actually dug up some donuts, though the large bag only contained two. From the crumbs left inside, there had been more.  
“So, communed with the spirits?” she finally asked.  
“In a way. I explored.”  
The frown deepened. “This isn’t Adventure Land XXL.”  
“I was careful. And Thirteen kept me from the bad stuff.”  
“You can talk to it?” she exclaimed, eyes lighting up.  
“No. I can sense it.”  
“So you’re finally back,” Artie commented as he walked into the main room and dumped a large, ancient looking folder onto Trent’s already overloaded desk. “Found your answers?”  
Will looked into the bearded, round face, suddenly seeing beyond the mask. The alert, knowing expression said more than any words.  
“I found enough,” he replied calmly.  
“Good. Good. Can we get back to normal operations now?”  
“I never wanted to interfere.”  
Nielsen gestured at Trent. “He’s the one who’s in the way.”  
“Artie, be nice,” Claudia scolded. “Trent’s our guest.”  
“He’s a disruptive presence.”  
“And I’m right here and can hear you,” Trent shot back. “Don’t worry, Mr. Nielsen. Almost done. I’ll be haunting Leena’s for the rest of the week.”  
“Cool. I’ll make hot cocoa!” Claudia declared.  
“But you’ll be back,” the older man said, ignoring her.  
“My assignment is indefinitely.”  
“I’m sure they miss you at home,” Artie grumbled.  
Trent just gave him an even smile. Will knew that DeMarco wasn’t easily unsettled. After working with Prowl for so long, nothing could really throw the man off.  
Lennox perched himself on the desk, meeting Artie’s eyes. “I’ll stay out of your way, just give me a bit more time around here, too.”  
Artie regarded him silently, then shrugged. “Not much I can do about it. But this isn’t a rehab center.”  
“I’m not here for any kind of rehab, fun or relaxation.”  
“Good.”  
“I promise not to disappear again.”  
Artie scowled. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep. The Warehouse isn’t the place for it.”  
Will smiled. “I think Mrs. Frederic mentioned something along those lines too. Then she disappeared.”  
“You talked to Mrs. Frederic?” Artie snapped.  
“She was down there. We had a chat, then she was suddenly gone.”  
The older man stared at him, hard. Then he shrugged. “She does that. She also comes back. Make sure you don’t get lost forever down there. Paperwork’s a mess.”  
He turned and walked into the depths of the building.  
“Cookies and milk,” Claudia only commented and peered over Trent’s shoulder. “Hey, I have an idea how you can get a short-cut to that.” And she hit several keys.  
Trent let her and winked at Will. Those two were having fun. He walked back through the umbilical cord and out of the Warehouse. The Badlands were as dusty and dry and inhospitable as two days ago. A crow sitting on a metal beam protruding from the roof cawed, then took off.  
It was a seven mile trip to Leena’s, but Lennox didn’t mind the walk. It did good to stretch his legs.  
Two miles down the dusty road a red oldtimer convertible stopped next to him. It was Artie Nielsen, eyes hidden behind small round sun glasses.  
“Get in.”  
“You don’t have to play taxi.”  
“As was pointed out to me, it’s good behavior. Now get in.”  
Will slid into the car, smiling. “Thank you, Mr. Nielsen.”  
“Don’t get used to it.”  
And they were off.

 

Only a short trip later Lennox got out in front of the restored Victorian mansion. Artie grabbed his bag and brushed past him, disappearing inside.  
“Hello, Will,” a female voice said.  
He turned and smiled at Leena, the owner of Leena’s Bed & Breakfast.  
“Coffee?” she offered, unfazed by Artie’s behavior. “If you’re hungry, and I can make you a late breakfast.”  
“I’d like that, thank you.”  
“Don’t mind Artie.”  
“Haven’t so far.”  
It got him another smile. Lennox followed her into the house, smelling coffee.  
“Do you require a room?” Leena asked as she led him into the sunny breakfast room that apparently doubled as a common room, too.  
“Seems like I’ll be here for a while.”  
“I’ll set you up,” Leena answered with a nod.  
“Thanks.”  
She walked into the kitchen and came back a few minutes later with a sandwich platter and a lot of coffee. Will discovered that he was rather hungry all of a sudden.  
“You have an interesting aura,” Leena said as she sat with him, interrupting the food-filled silence.  
Will shot her a quizzical look. He had read the files on the agents and the people associated with the Warehouse. He knew Leena was what could be called psychic, though not in a mind-reading way. She could see auras.  
“Interesting as in good or bad?” he wanted to know.  
“Different from everything I have seen before. Very strong and healthy, but unlike any of the others.” Leena tilted her head a little. “I can see you sharing it with someone else. I can see there are shields and deeper layers. I can see that the core is strong and protected.”  
Lennox wiped his fingers on a napkin.  
“I can also see the power within, the energy licking at the surface, and it moves.” She gestured at the faint runes that looked like scar tissue on his temple, running down his face. “You are a very interesting man, Will.”  
He leaned back, coffee mug in hand. “Thanks, I think.”  
She smiled more. “It is a compliment. How about I’ll show you your room before you head back to the Warehouse?”  
“You think Mr. Nielsen will give me a ride back?”  
“If you ask nicely.”  
Will smiled sweetly. “I’m generally a very nice man.”  
Leena laughed. “I don’t doubt it.”  
His room turned out to be a very spacious king-sized bed affair with a view of the garden. He had an en suite with a modern shower and a tub, and the thick pillows looked soft and fluffed.  
“Do you have bags?” Leena asked.  
“Back at the Warehouse. One reason to go back there. Might be late if I get stuck on something.” Lennox shrugged.  
She handed him a key. “Welcome to Leena’s,” she said. “Stay as long as you want.”

 

Like Trent, Will ended up staying a lot longer than planned. DeMarco was actually reassigned as liaison to the Warehouse. Artie was slowly warming up to the military man in their midst. Trent wasn’t going out to gather artifacts, but he went on long walks throughout the Warehouse, mostly accompanied by Claudia, to categorize and file.  
Lennox did the same; mostly unsupervised. Thirteen took to him in its own way, showing him the ‘sights’ by guiding the human hybrid with gentle pressure and suggestions.  
The first time he touched the tendrils of energy, the net that was everywhere, with his own energy activated, it was like fireworks and Christmas lights. The second time he had it under control and he could grasp the vastness of the Warehouse system itself.  
It was when he finally met up with Optimus and they talked at length about the first twelve Warehouses that came before Thirteen that a real plan was hatched. Jolt was already watching and guarding the site where Two was buried, but all the others had yet to be explored. Thirteen was neither a copy nor a clone. It was based on the first entity and the site of Warehouse 1 might give them all an answer as to where the first entity had come from, who it had been.  
“You want me to look for it?”  
Prime nodded. “If it has ceased to exist, we go to the next ones. Two is dangerous because it is so very much aware, but we might be able to calm the mind enough for us to talk to it without another death.”  
“Or without having it try to log onto Mrs. Frederic.” And that was the bigger problem. The moment they reawakened Two to talk to it, it would try and find a Caretaker.  
Lennox frowned.  
“You think we could bond it to another Caretaker?”  
“Considering that it wanted Mrs. Frederic, we might not be able to, unless we discover the reason why and how the entities bond.”  
Will nodded thoughtfully. Having two Warehouses online at the same moment might be tricky for other, not yet discovered reasons, too.  
“Two is currently buried under a mountain of sand anyway. We’d have to dig our way in. One was located in the ancient kingdom of Macedonia, which is a big, big place to search.”  
“Blaster and Perceptor have already started to rearrange an array of sensors to help you in your search. We will scan first, find possible locations, then send in a team.” Prime smiled. “Your team, Will.”  
He would be heading a team again, a unit. It gave Lennox a strange kind of thrill to think of a mission, his own mission, where he could move freely.  
“Sounds good, Optimus.”  
Very, very good.

 

Three months later an unmarked military flight was heading out of Nevada and toward Greece.


End file.
